


Fall Maize

by texastoasted



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 05:23:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21238865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/texastoasted/pseuds/texastoasted
Summary: Engineer, Soldier, Pyro, and Scout go to a pumpkin patch. Scout totally doesn't get lost.





	Fall Maize

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween to my friend hunter!! this is a secret santa for scream fortress in my tf2 discord :,) hope u enjoy!!

Scout raised his head from his dog-eared comic book as an automatic reflex when he heard the sound of the refrigerator opening. It was a comic that he’d pored over many times, partially because there was a definite delay in getting new ones ordered out to the base, and partially because it was so damn good. He looked over to the fridge and could see most of the heavily-packed inside and the top of a sloped back.

“Dinner already, hard hat?” he asked, rubbing his nose.

Engineer straightened up, two six packs of beer in his hands. He put them on the counter and shook his head. “Nah, not yet. Just making space.” he tilted his head to look out the kitchen window. “Pyro, you’d better wear a second sweater!”

“What’s for dinner, anyway?”

“I think soup. Medic’s turn.”

Scout raised his eyebrows in approval and turned back to his comic book, crossing one ankle over the other. If Engie came around the side of the couch and saw his feet on the coffee table, he’d probably push them off, but Scout would take his chances while he could. The Texan’s legs were too short to rest on the table like most of them, and Scout privately thought that he was just jealous, masking his feelings with claims of dirtying furniture.

Pyro came shuffling into the kitchen, wearing what looked like much more than two sweaters.

“That’s too many. You’re going to get awful hot.”

Pyro wheeled around on one boot and waddled back out the door, the end of their scarf trailing in their wake.

“Where are you guys going?” Scout asked.

“Pumpkin pickin’.”

“What, really?” the comic book was promptly forgotten as he shot off the couch like a popped cork. “How come you didn’t say earlier?”

“I’ve been sayin’ over dinner for the past week. No one listens to me anyhow when y’all are three bowls deep in beef stew.” Engineer answered, hiding a smile.

“Well...can I come?” Scout asked defensively, watching the other mercenary carefully arrange the beer back in the fridge.

“‘Course, Scout. Go and put your sweater on.”

Scout hooted with excitement as he took off down the hallway to his room, surely disturbing Spy in his smoking room, who was supposed to be reading with only his classical music for company. Instead, he roused Soldier, who was standing imposingly in his doorway when Scout opened it again after changing quickly.

“Jeez, Soldier, you scared the crap outta me.” Scout shouted at him, his heart drumming in his chest. 

“Where are you going, private?” the other mercenary asked stoically, his knit hat slouching low over his eyes.

“What are you, a cop? Going with Engie and Pyro to go pumpkin picking.”

“I am coming as well.”

Scout’s hands slowed on the scarf that he was knotting around his neck. “All right, man, just go tell Engie.”

“I am going.”

Scout rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and sure enough, when he made it back to the kitchen Soldier his usual two inches from Engineer’s face, holding one of his biceps up for emphasis.

“You will need me to carry the pumpkins for you, private, they are heavy!”

“All right, Soldier,” Engineer smiled warmly around a chuckle, “Don’t need to convince me. You can come too. We had best get going before the fields fill up.”

Scout leapt out of the truck, landing squarely with two feet onto a pile of hay. The straw was everywhere, coating the gravel and sparse grass like dried moss. Scout’s eyes gradually took in a massive pumpkin field that was absolutely ripe with fruit, and farther off, a massive field of someone’s crop. There was a red barn that people were milling around, but it was still early, and the lot was mostly empty as Engineer had foretold. When Engineer had rolled the window down to get the truck a ticket for the parket lot Scout had complained about the chilly air and early morning hour, but he quickly forgot about it.

“Aw man, that thing’s massive,” Scout said over his shoulder excitedly to the rest of them, jutting his chin out at a particularly fat pumpkin. “That one’s for Heavy!”

Engineer walked around to Scout and Soldier’s side of the truck and regarded it pleasantly. “Sure is large enough for the big guy, why don’t you grab it? I’m going to go pay for parking. Pyro, you’re in charge.” he winked at them before treading off across the gravel towards the barn, breath forming in front of him in tiny clouds.

“This one is bigger, son,” Scout heard Soldier wheeze, hefting a massive pumpkin overhead, his cheeks puffed out with effort.

“You should put that down!” Scout shouted at him, an incredulous laugh escaping his mouth. Soldier was turning beet-red. “You look like you’re gonna have a stroke!”

“It's fine,” the other mercenary grunted, taking one painful, laborious step at a time towards them.

Pyro mumbled something that seemed to end in a teasing, sing-song note. They were rummagining in the hay and assembling a stack of miniature pumpkins in their arms, but their mask was jutted out towards Engineer, who was returning.

“Pyro’s right, Engie’s coming back. He’s gonna be real mad if you bust your head open or somethin’ open before we’ve been here five minutes,” Scout warned.

Soldier’s back straightened out like an iron pole had been inserted down the backside of his sweater. “I’ve got it, private,” he hollered, and Engineer’s head whipped away from observing the pumpkins and towards the three of them, his pleasant expression dropping into confusion.

“Solly...what the hell are you doing? You’re gonna break your back!”

“Engie ...I found ...the biggest one,” Soldier grunted, staggering over to them. Finally, with a monumental finish, he dropped the pumpkin in front of the truck at Engineer’s feet. Scout swore the earth shook.

“Sweet Lord, that’s big.” Engineer said, in genuine awe. “Only need one at that rate.”

“What do you need it for, anyway?” Scout asked, kicking a small rock across the field. 

“Pumpkin pie, of course. Gotta shake off my rusty ol’ baking skills in time for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh shit, really? I love pumpkin pie!” Scout exclaimed.

“So does Pyro, and everyone else. Maybe we should get some more,” Engie mused, stroking his beard. “Gonna take me all afternoon to scoop em’ out.”

“You need the insides?” Soldier asked stoically.

“Yeah.”

Soldier picked up a smallish pumpkin that was near his left foot. “I will help you and your weak muscles, Engie. Here you go.” He held the pumpkin in between his two hands and squeezed. There was an impressive bulging underneath the arms of his sweater, and then Scout gaped as the pumpkin began to bulge and crack, splitting into a gory, orange mess that splattered all over his helmet and Engie’s overalls.

There was silence for a moment, save for the sounds of Pyro excavating miniature pumpkins from the hay, and then Engie reached up with his thumb to wipe a clump of seeds off Soldier’s cheek.

“That’ll work,” he said softly.

Scout rolled his eyes and spun around on one heel, ignoring the fierce blush that was multiplying between the two of them like a contagion. His gaze fell upon the far field, and his eyes widened when a little kid came waddling out the side of it, arms outstretched. “Yo, lovebirds, they have a corn maze over there. You didn’t say anything about a corn maze, Engie!”

“Forgot there was one, Scout,” came the answer, sounding very far away. “Go on, then.”

“Hell yeah! Pyro, come on!”

The two of them shot off towards the corn crop with barely restrained glee.

The corn maze, as it turned out, had looked awfully fun from far away, but rather foreboding up close. Tall stalks of corn dappled with sunlight waved gently in the breeze, a hand-painted sign marking the entrance with a smiley face. The cheerful signage didn’t help the appearance that all light from above was swallowed in the general mass of the corn, and the stalks were incredibly tall, swaying far above their heads.

“Take this if you get lost,” the friendly attendant said, handing Scout and Pyro two whistles “We’ll come get you. Also, there’s a prize for fastest through the maze!”

“Oh, yeah, that has my name on it,” Scout boasted. “See you at the end, buddy!”

Pyro nodded exuberantly and raised their hands.  _ Good luck _ !

Scout lowered himself to the ground in a starting stance, focusing on the wide, hay-covered opening in front of him. An earthy smell rose up to him from the mud his heel was digging into, and he took off, sprinting into the passageway. Cold air found its was under his chin, worming into his scarf, but it was welcome, and the dark excitement of the maze soon swallowed them up. The pathways through the corn narrowed rapidly, and soon he was alone, the sound from outside being swallowed up in the corn. Scout huffed with disappointment as he was forced to repeatedly and rapidly come skidding to a stop. The maze was utterly confusing, with wild twists and turns that came leaping out at him.

He had been running for a while when there was a familiar mumbling noise from the other side of a wall of corn.

“Hey, mumbles, is that you?” Scout called, jumping upwards in an effort to see over the wall of corn.

There was a loud rustling noise, and then infuriatingly, the voice of the attendant. “Wow, congratulations! That was so quick!”

“Hang on,” Scout shouted, “How did you get out before me?”

“Scout? That you?”

“Engie! Yeah!”

“You’d better hurry it up, son, we need to get back and start baking.”

“I am hurrying,” he whined. “What the hell!”

Scout was practically steaming as he whirled around on one foot and took off again. To his surprise, sooner than he thought, he became winded and had to stop. How long had he been running? It was difficult to tell. The sun had gotten a little higher in the sky and he could have sworn he had run the whole maze twice over by now. His shirt underneath his sweater was becoming unpleasantly stuck to his shoulder blades. 

“Yo!” he shouted, hands cupped around his mouth.

“Maggot?” Soldier’s voice, from far to the left.

“Down here!”

“Scout, you are taking a long time to come out of the maze,” Soldier said factually.

“I’m not trying to! I can’t find the fuckin’ exit!”

“Just come out through the corn.”

“What, are you kidding? That’s against the rules.”

“You are lost.”

Scout bit his lip. “Nah, I’m not lost. I just got turned around a little. I’ll be out in a minute!”

It was physically painful to admit defeat, and Scout’s breath was wheezing through his lungs as he let his legs buckle to the ground, knees pressing into the soft mud. He would put his collection of Tom Jones memorabilia that he had run the whole maze eight times, and still, somehow, he had not seen the exit or heard Soldier, Engie, or Pyro again. The sun was directly overhead, and the chilly fall day had warmed up unpleasantly, beating down on him with nowhere to go. Scout jammed his hand into his pocket to see if he had any chapstick and his fingers collided with hard, cold metal.  _ The whistle _ . No, he’d never live it down back at the base if he had to be rescued from the corn maze. It had to be right around the corner. He had called out a few times, his breath sounding pitifully hoarse, with no answer. How big was this fucking maze? He made himself get back off, flicking mud away from his jeans. He had to keep going. There was pumpkin pie waiting on the other side, Scout reminded himself, if he could only make it out of here before the rest of the team ate it all.

Scout took a deep breath to steady himself and then was promptly barrelled into by Soldier, crashing through the corn like an enraged bull.

The two-three-of them, Engie was up on Soldier’s shoulders like a lighthouse, went tumbling into the corn with a lot of hollering.

“Ow!” Scout shouted, holding his elbow. “You coulda broken my arm!”

“Scout,” Engineer said, exasperated, “What the hell are you doing in here? Layin’ down to die?”

Pyro emerged from the path that Soldier had carved through the corn stalks. They put down the cheerfully-branded jug of apple cider that Scout assumed was the prize.  _ Scout! Lost. _

“Maybe I was a little lost,” Scout said defensively, holding back his excitement to see other people with extreme difficulty. “I had it, though. I would have found it!”

“Whatever you say, Scout,” Engineer said good-naturedly. “Glad we found you in one piece and the corn monster didn’t get you.”

_ Corn monster _ ? Pyro signed, clapping their hands together excitedly.

“Just kiddin’, Pyro. Ready to get going, Scout?”

“Hell yeah, I’m so hungry,” he groaned, getting to his feet. “I was thinking about how useful Pyro’s axe could have been to cut through those corn stalks.”

“No need, maggot. Are we ready to go?”

“Yeah, just gotta drop off the parking ticket-Whoa!” Engineer shouted as Soldier dove between his legs, standing upright with the shorter mercenary on top of his shoulders. “You can let me walk now, Sol, we found him!”

“Save your strength for the pumpkin crushing! Onwards!” Soldier bellowed, and took off through the pathway he had blazed, Engineer’s hollering fading out behind them.

Pyro looked at Scout wordlessly.

“All right, buddy, hop on,” Scout sighed, and knelt so Pyro could climb on his back.


End file.
